Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

Shang Song practically floated as he followed Xie Jing through layers of corridors and boarded the car that was already waiting outside the side door.

Xie Jing sat beside him, and the two remained silent the entire way.

The city's morning rush hour was still congested, but their convoy moved with incredible efficiency, weaving through streets and alleys, and finally silently gliding into a designated area of ​​the First Municipal Hospital's underground parking lot.

"Third floor, east wing, emergency and critical care surgery department. Lin Zhou is waiting for you at the elevator." Xie Jing looked at Shang Song, his voice steady. "I'll be waiting for you here."

Shang Song was stunned for a moment before belatedly realizing that Xie Jing did not intend to go up with him.

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask, "Aren't you going up to take a look?" or "Thank you," but he didn't say anything. In the end, he could only nod heavily, push open the car door, and rush towards the elevator.

The next few hours felt like a thrilling dream.

The glaring "Operating" sign on the operating room door remained constantly lit.

He, his bewildered eldest brother, and his second brother who later rushed over from the store, squeezed into the corridor, each looking increasingly grim.

Finally, the eldest brother couldn't help but cry a few more times. He was only able to hold back his tears after the second brother punched his shoulder and scolded him, "Don't make things worse." However, his shoulder was still twitching.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the emergency room finally opened, and the doctor came out, took off his mask, and the three of them immediately surrounded him.

"Who are the family members?"

"We are classmates! His parents are on their way and will be there soon!" Shang Song answered quickly.

The doctor glanced at them and said in a calm and clear tone, "Acute severe pancreatitis, accompanied by early shock. You were brought in very timely; if you had arrived half an hour later, the situation would have been very different. Your vital signs are now initially stable, and the bleeding and necrosis are under control, but you still need close observation and will need to stay in the ICU for a few days."

Shang Song's legs went weak, and he stumbled a step before regaining his balance. The eldest brother let out a loud cry, and the second brother's eyes also reddened as he fiercely wiped his face.

After the doctor left, the third child's parents finally arrived.

The third son was the only son in the family. His parents were honest, simple rural people. When they heard the news that their son was out of danger, the two old people's legs went weak and they almost knelt down on the spot. Shang Song and the others hurriedly helped them up.

The third child's mother held Shang Song's hand, tears streaming down her face, repeatedly saying incoherently, "Thank you... thank you for saving my child's life..."

The old man's calloused hands gripped Shang Song's hand so tightly it hurt, and the trembling gratitude made Shang Song's nose sting with tears again.

After helping the elderly couple settle in and waiting for the third child to be transferred from the emergency room to the ICU, I glanced at the third child, who was covered in tubes, through the glass. By then, it was completely dark.

Looking out at the dark twilight outside the hospital window, he suddenly remembered that Xie Jing was still waiting for him in the parking lot.

Shang Song gave a few instructions to his two eldest brothers, then turned and walked toward the elevator.

His mind was a mess.

The empty look in Xie Jing's eyes when he was rejected, the eldest brother's cries on the phone, the red light during surgery, the doctor's serious face, the tearful eyes of the third brother's parents... all of this replayed repeatedly in his mind today.

The elevator descends, and the numbers on it change.

The parking lot was much emptier at night, but those few familiar SUVs remained parked there silently.

Shang Song paused for a moment, then quickened his pace, almost jogging as he ran over.

He opened the back door and bent down to sit inside.

Xie Jing was still in the car.

The light was dim, and Shang Song couldn't see the specific expression on Xie Jing's face. He only knew that Xie Jing was looking at him.

"Third brother... is out of danger for now," Shang Song said. "The doctor said he was brought in very timely. Thank you, Xie Jing."

Xie Jing was silent for a few seconds, then nodded slightly, his voice as steady as ever: "It's good that everyone is alright."

It was described so casually, as if it were just a trivial little thing.

But Shang Song knew that this was no small matter.

This was a huge deal for him, for the third son, for the eldest and second sons, and for their honest and simple parents.

Shang Song looked at him. In the dim light, Xie Jing's features appeared somewhat blurry, yet he was still breathtakingly handsome.

This man, who was in pain this morning because he couldn't touch him, was able to easily snatch his friend's life from the clutches of death, and then quietly waited for him in the parking lot for who knows how long.

He suddenly felt that his earlier thoughts of drinking poison to quench thirst and being indecisive had become somewhat... arbitrary after experiencing everything that had happened today.

Shang Song took a deep breath, his lips trembling, his voice slightly unsteady: "Um..."

He tried to make his voice sound steady: "What you said this morning, six months, I've changed my mind."

Xie Jin's gaze seemed even more intense in the dim light, but she didn't speak immediately, as if waiting for Shang Song to continue.

Shang Song's heart pounded under his gaze, but she still mustered her courage and continued speaking, her pace a little fast: "It's not like what you said, the kind of six months where we break up if things don't work out."

"Yes... I'll give you six months. During these six months, you can try to find out in your own way how... you can treat me well."

He emphasized, "It's not about locking me up, nor is it about getting rid of the people around me. It's about learning... to be like an ordinary person, to like another person, to treat them well, to make them feel happy, to feel cared for, to feel... loved."

"I...I'll try to understand you...your differences. Shall we try this first?"

After Shang Song finished speaking, the carriage fell silent again.

He was so nervous that his ears perked up, but he could only hear the faint sound of the air conditioner running. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt his hand, which was placed at his side, being gently tugged at the fabric of his clothes at his wrist.

He glanced over instinctively and saw Xie Jing's long, beautiful hand, which had quietly gripped the cuff of his sweater.

With very light force, there was almost no real grip; Shang Song could easily slip away with the slightest movement.

But even such a small gesture made Shang Song's nose tingle again.

He raised his head and looked at Xie Jing.

Xie Jing's dim, star-like eyes were fixed intently on Shang Song. His thin lips parted slightly as he said:

"it is good."

He paused, as if gathering his strength, before speaking the following words with unusual solemnity:

"I will learn."

After saying that, instead of loosening his grip on Shang Song's sleeve, he slowly tightened his grip, gently and firmly clenching that small piece of soft sweater fabric into his palm.

Shang Song felt the pulling force on his wrist getting stronger and stronger. He looked down and saw that the piece of clothing was being torn and deformed between Xie Jing's fingers. The tenderness in his heart was suddenly gently enveloped by something warm.

He couldn't help but raise his head and look at Xie Jing again.

Xie Jing's face remained expressionless, still calm and indifferent, but the poor piece of sweater fabric had been torn and wrinkled.

This person... appears calm and collected, yet he's holding on so tightly. Is he afraid he'll run away, or afraid he'll change his mind?

"You...you loosen your grip a little."

He gestured to his ripped sleeve and whispered, "You're going to ruin my clothes."

Upon hearing this, Xie Jing reacted as if he had been burned, loosening his grip slightly, but quickly tightening it again. He even opened his palm and, through the fabric, grasped Shang Song's wrist.

"I won't let go," he said with unusual firmness.

Shang Song was taken aback by his reaction, but when he looked up at Xie Jing, who was so close to him, he suddenly... didn't really want Xie Jing to let go.

"Fine, don't loosen your grip then." Shang Song's lips suddenly curled into a noticeable upward curve. "...Whatever."

Xie Jing looked at Shang Song's smile, a smile that was somewhat silly, but... as dazzling as ever.

His eyes flickered slightly, and the fingertips gripping Shang Song's sleeve tightened unconsciously.

The two remained locked in this stalemate inside the car, with the empty parking lot outside the window at night.

After a long pause, Shang Song couldn't hold back any longer. He moved his wrist, which was being held, and muttered softly, "But... Professor Xie, is it really okay for us to just sit like this all night, you holding me, me letting you hold me?"